


Snap.

by GameandWolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oral, Traces of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GameandWolf/pseuds/GameandWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't even need to speak to have Sebastian following his every order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snap.

It’s like being wrapped in an electrical storm the second that Jim breezes into a room. The room practically vibrates with the self-satisfied energy that he gives off; everything about him radiates power, control, _dominance_. He saunters effortlessly into the center of the room and grins, all teeth and no comfort. Sebastian might compare to a shark’s smile, if Jim’s smile was something to be feared. Instead, it’s the eyes that send shivers down his spine and turn his blood to ice. It’s the eyes that send his mind reeling back to the jungles of India and the vicious darkness of nocturnal eyes reflecting fires back at him.  
  
Jim doesn’t even say anything, doesn’t _have_ to. He just clicks his thumb and middle finger together with a sharp _snap!_ and Sebastian is on the floor, hands and knees, crawling across the carpet to Jim’s feet. He doesn’t reach him because Jim is backing away, leading Sebastian farther from the sofa. The low noise that Sebastian makes is humiliating, but that just spurs Jim on and encourages him; he loves to make Sebastian needy and desperate and to know that man is entirely and without a doubt _his_. Not that he should have any reason to doubt it, not when the look on the kneeling man’s face says he wants nothing more than to lay down at Jim’s feet and lick his shoes.  
  
He drops down into a plush arm chair and slouches down in it, legs spread invitingly, one hand reaching up to grip the back of the chair, the other draped lazily over the arm of the chair. His tongue runs slowly across his teeth and his eyebrows lift, watching Sebastian still kneeling on the carpet.  
  
He jerks forward slightly and hesitates. Control isn’t his anymore, it’s _Jim’s_ and when Jim is in control, nothing he does is his decision any longer, nothing is without permission, nothing is his own. It’s the relief he aches for Jim to give him as often as possible.  
  
Another _snap!_ and that’s permission. He practically dives forward, nuzzling his face against Jim’s calves, hands sliding up the sleek material of the trousers, shifting to mouth along Jim’s thighs, drinking in the heat of his skin radiating through the suit, rubbing his cheek against the pronounced bulge and delighting in the way Jim’s head drops back with a low moan.  
  
Everything he does is for these little moments when, just briefly, Jim is _his_. Jim can do anything to him, bend him, twist him, fuck him, break him, ride him, suck him, lick, touch, _hurt_ him and nothing is ever so good as when Jim is in his own head, high on the pleasure and focused entirely on him.  
  
He runs his tongue alone Jim’s cock through his trousers, nipping and tugging lightly on the material with his teeth. He wants to taste Jim, wants to feel him on his tongue, filling his mouth, his throat, relax in the sensation of Jim fucking his mouth.  
  
There isn’t a long wait before another lazy _snap!_ means his hands are tugging at Jim’s belt, growling when it resists, and pulling down the front of Jim’s trousers. No pants, as usual. Sebastian licks his lips, head tilted to one side, eyes tracing over the lines of Jim’s erection. He lifts his gaze briefly towards Jim’s and as soon as he gets a slight tilt of the head, he’s on him.  
  
His tongue drags along the thick vein on the underside of his cock, tracing it up to the head, leaving a wet trail in its wake. His lips slide over the crown, sealing around it and sucking hard, drawing drops of pre-come over his tongue and leaving him groaning at the taste.

  
One of Jim’s hands slip to grip the back of Sebastian’s neck, holding him tightly and stroking his thumb across Sebastian’s jaw. He pushes back against the grip slightly, acknowledgement of Jim’s hold on him before sliding his lips farther down the length of Jim’s cock. His lips work against the deliciously overheated skin, tongue sliding and pressing and tasting different spots, teeth scraping lightly over delicate skin, mixing just enough pain into Jim’s pleasure to have the man above squirming in his seat and rolling his hips up.  
  
With well practiced ease, Sebastian relaxes his throat and takes Jim down as far as he can, swallowing him down to the root, nose pressed against the dark hairs around the base of his cock. Sebastian’s eyes flutter shut and he inhales deeply, taking in the scent of Jim’s skin, heady and masculine and so very _Jim_ , before letting out a low, satisfied moan around him. He thinks he’d be content to stay in this position for as long as Jim would let him, blissfully unconcerned about anything that isn’t Jim.  
  
The moment doesn’t last for long and Jim is ordering him again with a sudden _snap!_ of his fingers and an impatient buck of his hips, prompting Sebastian to shift back to his previous activities, mentally cataloging every inch of Jim’s cock and the various breathy moans and high pitched that each spot draws out.  
  
One of his hands wraps around the base of Jim’s cock, stroking him slowly in counterpoint to the slide of his lips while the other slips between his legs to cradle his balls, rolling them across his palm and squeezing lightly, enough to make Jim growl from the back of his throat.  
  
Sebastian knows his way around Jim’s body well and it doesn’t take much effort to bring him off, a sharp twist of his fist around Jim’s cock, the press of his tongue against the slit, and one finger pressed suddenly against the sensitive spot just behind his balls and Jim is going rigid in his seat, unable to fight back the orgasm that crashes over him.  
  
His grip on Sebastian’s neck never loosens, holding him tightly in place the entire time, making sure he swallows down every drop that he can. When Jim comes down from his post-coital bliss, he releases Sebastian, letting him pull back, licking Jim’s cock clean as he goes. Jim’s hand drifts to the front of Sebastian’s neck and he wipes a drop of come from his lower lip with his thumb.  
  
He smirks at Sebastian before lifting his thumb to his own mouth and licking it clean. Sebastian lets out a low whine; he wants to chase that drop into Jim’s mouth and lick him clean, devour every bit of him.  
  
Without warning, Jim shoves Sebastian back, knocking him flat on the ground before standing, adjusting his trousers and stepping over him. Sebastian sags against the ground, eyes closed. Playtime with Jim is over and it’s back to business.  
  
 _Snap!_  
  
Sebastian’s eyes reopen and he twists his head to look at Jim, who is giving him an expectant look. It’s that _look_. Jim’s eyes slide of Sebastian’s body and he smirks, that damnable shark toothed, tiger eyed smile again, and twists on his heel, heading for his bedroom.  
  
Sebastian scrambles to hit feet and chases after him. Playtime must not be over yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Moran gives Moriarty a blowjob. There's no communiction between them except body language, hand signals and Moriarty clicking his fingers.  
> http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/17487.html?thread=105629007#t105629007


End file.
